


The Cult Of Hephaestus

by littlesaintmick



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Disabled Character, Fluff, Greek Gods AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Violence, bear with me guys this is gonna be a fucking ride, body image issues, handjobs, idk man if something needs tagged what which i've missed hmu, just all manner of fucking is gonna happen, trust me it'll get there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-03-28 13:32:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13905039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesaintmick/pseuds/littlesaintmick
Summary: centuries ago, hephaestus was exiled from olympus. thousands of years have passed while he lives on the earth. as the greeks fell, so did the gods.he now is known as mick rory. he lives in a small town, and he builds, and he forges, and he creates.one day, he meets a thief.





	1. Verse I: A Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> just saying this now this is NOT friendly to a lot of the characters but particularly sara. mentions of both mick and len having been with others in the past come up.
> 
> first chapter is super short :p sorry about that. hopefully this'll get the ball rolling though

“Hey there, Mick.”

“Afternoon, Hal.”

Mick set his basket down on the counter, pulling out the bundles of wire and soldering bars and welding electrodes. The man behind the counter-Hal, an older man, but nowhere near as old as Mick-smiled. 

“Working hard, I see?”

“You know it.”

“Any big projects in the work there, son?”

Mick sighed and ran a hand back over his bare scalp, ignoring the ache in his hip and leg. 

“Just the braces and that wheelchair for the V.A. Nothing much besides.”

“It’s a real wonderful thing you’re doing for all them people, Mick.”

Mick shrugged.

“Just doing what I need to.”

Hal smiled at him and brought up Mick’s total, accepting the cash and giving him his change back. Mick smiled at the man briefly, picking up his bags and making his way to his truck, trying not to limp too much. His leg rarely ached this bad, and he couldn’t figure out what was causing it. It had to be something, he could usually just ignore it, but not today. 

The unusual pain unfortunately coincided with his scheduled day to run errands, and he knew that putting it off would result in him forgetting. He hadn’t had a great memory ever since-well. Since Then.

Mick loaded the bags into the back of the truck, slowly, trying to keep the weight off his legs. Maybe if he put a reminder on his phone, he could do the errands tomorrow. His leg was hurting so bad, the only other times it had was when-

Mick felt a hand brush against his back pocket, attempting to slip his wallet out. He whipped around, still quick-they couldn’t take that from him-and grabbed the wrist of whoever tried to pickpocket him. Mick growled, but went silent. 

“Damn. Should’ve known I couldn’t pull one on you old-timers.”

Mick let the man go, blinking. 

“I-you-”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Hephaestus.”

Mick froze. No one ever called him by his real name. Not even Nike, when she visited, or any of the gods. He looked the man over, narrowing his eyes. He looked…well-traveled, but oddly youthful. 

“Hermes?”

“Going by Leonard, now. Or Len.”

“What are you doing here? Do  _they_  want something?”

Len scoffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Please.  _They_  couldn’t make me do  _anything_. The days of me being their errand boy have long past.”

“Then why are you here?”

Len bit his lip, a slight pink tint coming to his cheeks. The shy look seemed out of place on him.

“Well…I wanted to finally meet you.”

Mick raised one eyebrow and took a step back, bumping against the tailgate. 

“Why’d you wanna do that? I ain’t anything you haven’t seen before.”

Len tilted his head and looked at Mick, eyes narrowed and bright. 

“I disagree. Besides…I haven’t really seen anyone like us lately. I missed being around other gods.”

Mick snorted. 

“Barely a god at this point. I’ve been gone for longer than you’ve been around.”

Len frowned.

“Hephaestus, please, at least give me a chance. I just want to talk, at least.”

Mick watched Len, looking him over, looking for signs of deceit. He couldn’t see any, Hermes seemed honest enough. 

“I’m going by Mick, now. You need a ride?”

Len smirked-he didn’t seem to have an ulterior attitude behind it-and walked around to the other side of the truck. Mick huffed, and got behind the wheel.

—

They ended up at a restaurant, sitting across from each other at a booth near the front window. Len had ordered himself a milkshake before anything, and that alone told Mick quite a bit about the younger god.

“So what’ve you been doing all these years?”

Len looked up at him, lips wrapped around the straw-Mick tried very hard not to focus on that. 

“Traveling. Stealing. What I was put here to do.”

Mick laughed, swirling his own straw around in his glass of water. 

“Hepha-Mick, what about you? I’ve only ever heard stories about what you did…after.”

Mick shrugged. 

“I move around from place to place every lifetime or so. Saw Olympus fall. Been trying to avoid most of the gods ever since.”

“So…you’re not friends with any of them?”

Mick looked thoughtfully at Len, and shrugged again.

“No, I wouldn’t go that far. Nike visits, occasionally-she’s busy, she’s coaching a few sports teams right now-and I still see Helios from time to time. I think I get along better with the titans, anyway. I pimped his ride a while back and we’ve been tight ever since.”

Len laughed, a quiet, but musical sound and Mick felt himself blush for the first time in two thousand years.

“Well, the titans can be…an interesting bunch. Have you come across anyone else?”

“Yeah, a few. My….my ex-wife, sometimes.”

Len froze, seemingly in anger, before shaking it off. 

“Well. I hope  _she’s_  doing fine.”

Mick raised an eyebrow, pausing in the conversation as their food was brought. He thanked the waitress-he knew her well, he’d fashioned a prosthetic arm for her husband when he came home from war-and turned back to Len, whose arms were crossed, an annoyed look on his face. 

“You sound like you know her.”

Len blushed and scowled. 

“We had…an encounter of sorts, about fifteen hundred years ago.”

Mick was quiet for a moment, but couldn’t hold back the loud peals of laughter after a few seconds. He glanced at Len and Len seemed to want to stay annoyed, but a smile snuck at his face and broke the scowl. Mick put a hand on his chest, taking a few deep breaths. 

“Ha-fuck, Len, sorry-I just-don’t look so pissed off, she gets everyone once. Nothing against that, really, it’s what she’s meant to do-but goddamn. I’ve never seen anyone who so fuckin’  _annoyed_  that they got with Aphrodite.”

Len blushed again, and Mick silently remarked on the loveliness of the shade. 

“She’s just….not my type, normally, but there was a whole thing with an apple, and-it was just a pain in the ass.”

Mick felt looser, more relaxed. He smiled at Len and they began to eat, Len even convincing him to get a shake of his own. Mick didn’t like to eat many sweets. They talked a while longer, Mick introducing Len to the waitress when she came by next. Len greeted her politely, and after she’d gone, he quietly played with the wrapper of his straw. His head was ducked down, and though they’d only known each other that day, Mick could see that look was out of place on him.

“Hey, if there’s something you need to say, say it.”

Len looked up at him in surprise.

“Listen, Hermes, if there was any reason I was happy to-not be on Olympus anymore, it was because I was tired of the lies and the drama and the bullshit, so don’t pull that with me.”

Len glanced down again, before leaning a little closer. 

“I just-I wasn’t sure how to say it-Hephaestus, I’ve  _never_  believed anything that they’e said about you. Ever. I swear. I wanted-I wanted to meet you for myself, to know-I always thought you were-I just didn’t want to go any longer without meeting you and knowing you. They rarely ever even spoke of you on Olympus, and-and I  _hated_  it, because they were so ungrateful to you. You created so much for them, so much for everyone, and they-they did what they did.”

Len sat back, looking at the tabletop again, thin, long fingers tracing over the surface.

“I guess…I guess that’s it. I didn’t understand why they’d do that, and I understand it even less now.”

Mick was silent for a few minutes. He’d never…no one had ever really said anything like that to him. A few condolences from the other gods he’d come across, especially the younger ones-Artemis had always seemed angry on his behalf, Nike was comforting-the titans he’d met had been more sympathetic. Helios had been mad in particular. But Helios was such a fair person. 

The gods usually weren’t. 

It was odd, to him, that Hermes would be so…sympathetic, to the pain he’d been caused. Mick looked at him, at Len, that lovely flush still tinting his cheeks, blue-green eyes clear and honest, and he licked his lips, unsure of what to say to him.

“Len-did you ever get what I made you?”

“Hm?”

“Before-it happened, I’d heard of you, and he-you know,  _him_ -told me to make you something, to help with your job. Did…did you ever get them?”

Len’s eyes widened and he waved his hand next to his head. Mick could see the metal wings glinting in the sunlight, and Len gestured for him to look down. Mick did, and he saw the tiny wings fluttering at Len’s ankles. Len waved his hands again, and they disappeared. 

“I keep them with me. They’re…they’re one of the reasons I wanted to meet you, was to thank you for my helmet and my sandals. It never felt right, that I hadn’t gotten to say that to your face.”

Mick felt a blush rise to his own cheeks. The gods had rarely thanked him for his work. It felt…nice.

Mick pushed his milkshake towards Len. 

“You want the rest of this?”

—

Len came around often, over the next few months, between traveling. He apparently consulted with various businesses and criminals, and it took him around the world. When he wasn’t on the road, he’d come to Mick. 

Mick…didn’t mind. Len was different from just about anyone he’d met, human or not. Mick enjoyed his company and wanted him around. He still liked to see the flush of Len’s cheeks, the lovely clarity of his eyes.

The other gods Mick knew came around as well, occasionally coinciding with Len’s visits. Len enjoyed seeing them, Helios especially. But everyone liked Helios. He was going by Jax, now, and he and Len bonded quickly. As did Nike and Len, over sports. Kendra was sweet, it always made Mick sad she couldn’t stay for longer. 

He understood, though. She was being sought by at least eight different countries to coach for the Olympics. 

Mick scoffed at those. 

Artemis had even come, as Mick had called her to give her a gift-a new bow and sets of arrows. He’d made them so that they could never be lost. Amaya had been thankful. 

Len had approved of that.

Mick had noticed that Len seemed a tad bit possessive of him, not at all trusting the other gods or titans around him until they’d proven themselves.  It was weird, but Mick couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it at least a little. 

Len sat, in Mick’s workshop, watching him fashion a new kind of wheelchair. He had his chin resting on his hands, and a contented smile on his face. 

“Mick?”

“Hm?”

“I…I’ve been thinking, and-I wanted to ask you…I’m gonna be settling down for a while, I’m taking a break from work, and-if it’s alright, I was thinking…maybe I could stay with you? Only if you’d want me around, I don’t wanna intrude, but-”

“Yeah, alright.”

“What?”

Mick stood, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with his sleeve. It was hot, but damned if he’d take his shirt off if he could help it. He looked at Len. 

“You can stay. I like having you around. Been a long while since anyone stayed for more than an hour, anyway. It…might be nice, not being alone.”

Len’s face brightened and he grinned. 

“Thank you, Mick-it’ll be a few weeks, I’ve got some business in India to finish up-thank you, I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to stay with.”

Mick blushed and wiped the sweat from his brow again, hoping the heat would excuse the blush.


	2. Verse II: An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mick talks to some friends, mick thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is, as the good people of zambia say, a filler episode. i hope you all enjoy it and it's overwhelming exposition anyway.

Mick swept the floor, emptying the dustpan in the trash. He observed his work, and was satisfied. 

He’d worked on the house a bit, cleaning up the guest room for Len’s extended stay. Mick was more excited than he’d let on, unsure of how to express it directly to Len. He hoped that his exuberance in preparing the house would translate. 

Mick felt…odd, about Len. He was still wary of the younger god, though when he thought about it, there was no reason to be. Len had been nothing but honest with him this whole time, and Len had never met him before. That helped. 

There was a knock at the door, and Mick set the broom aside to go answer it. He looked through the peephole and smiled. Mick opened the door, moving out of the way. 

“Hi!”

“Hello, Kendra. What’re you doing here?”

Kendra smiled at him, a bright smile, and Mick could just make out the line of her wings behind her. 

“I was in town, since it’s the off season, and I wanted to see you! It’s been almost five months!”

“Yeah, but we still talk.”

Kendra grinned and stepped in the house, standing in front of Mick.

“I know, but…I can’t get a hug over the internet.”

Mick rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 

“Alright. Not too long.”

Kendra threw her arms around him, Mick returning the hug, careful of her wings, though they were in a different phase now. She was one of the few people allowed to make physical contact with him. 

Len had quickly gained that level of trust, though Mick had to admit, it was in part because Mick had just enjoyed the happy look that bloomed on Len’s face upon touching Mick. And the way his thin, strong hands felt wasn’t…totally objectionable.

Mick pulled away from the hug and returned to the room he’d been cleaning. 

“There’s stuff to eat and drink in the kitchen, if you want. I can make something once I’m done in here.”

Kendra grabbed a glass of water before following Mick into the room. She sat on the bed and looked around. 

“You’re really cleaning the guest room up. Got a remodel planned?”

Mick blushed, keeping his face turned away. He cleared his throat. 

“Uh…no, not exactly. I am gonna paint it, but…uh. Someone’s gonna be staying with me.”

He could  _feel_  the raised eyebrow and grin.

“Oh? And who might be staying with you, Mick?”

“Well…Len is.”

Mick had to cover his ears at the high-pitched happy sound that came out of Kendra.

“What! Are you for real? He’s gonna be living here? Oh my god, he’s gonna be getting naked here-”

“Kendra!”

“What? He is!”

“Maybe so, but…”

Mick heard Kendra set her water down.

“Mick?”

Mick sighed and sat down on the bed next to her. 

“It’s…it won’t be like that.”

“Oh, Mick. It’s okay to be interested in him, and I’m  _pretty_  sure he feels the same way-”

Mick crossed his arms over his chest, closing in on himself. 

“Yeah, right.”

“Come on, I really think he-”

“Why would he? Look at-” Mick swallowed around his throat, tightening his arms- “look at me. No one like Hermes would ever-it’s just not gonna happen. Either way, I don’t…it doesn’t matter.”

Kendra frowned, and set her hand gently on Mick’s shoulder. 

“Well…for what it’s worth, I really do think you have a chance. I know it’s been a long time, but you’re a good man. And a hot man. You’ll see that someday.”

Mick stood, and went back to preparing the room to be painted. He and Kendra talked, still, while he worked. It was nice.

—

Mick picked up the phone, pulling oven mitts off his hands. 

“Hello?”

_“Hey, Mick.”  
_

“Len! Hey, what’s-what’s up? Is something wrong?”

_“What? No, I just…wanted to talk to you.”  
_

“…Oh.”

_“Is this a bad time?”  
_

“Oh-what, no, I just-I just finished baking some cookies, I’m heading to the daycare tomorrow to drop off some playground equipment and I wanted to give the kids a treat, you know?”

_“Aww, Mick. What a softie.”  
_

Mick blushed and had the urge to hide his face, though he was the only one home.

“Shut up.”

Len laughed, that beautiful little musical tone. 

_“So…I’m gonna be home in two weeks.”  
_

Mick didn’t respond for a moment. He was speechless at that; Len had said ‘home’. Home implied a lot. 

“I…I look forward to seeing you, Len. I got the room all ready for you. I..I even painted it. Thought you might like a different color than what I had in there.”

_“Oh-Mick, you didn’t have to do that. I’d be happy to have anything if it’s with you.”  
_

“Yeah, well. I wanted to.”

He heard Len laugh, and Mick smiled. 

_“I can’t wait to see it. I can’t wait to see you.”  
_

Mick swallowed around a dry throat.

“I….I look forward to seeing you, too.”

—

Mick heard the rumble of an engine and grinned. He looked up, and sure enough, there was a pristine, gold 1971 Plymouth Hemi Cuda. A young man stepped out, dressed for the heat, with sunglasses perched on his nose. Mick shook his head.

“Do you  _need_  sunglasses, Jax?”

Jax laughed and made his way into the garage. He walked up to Mick, shaking his hand and pulling him into a quick hug. 

“Not really, but come on. I look good.”

Mick went back to working on a small engine as Jax looked around. The titan would come occasionally to get work done on his cars, or to work with Mick. They had a shared interest in mechanics. 

“So…when is he coming back?

“Who?”

“Hermes.”

Mick blushed, turning away. He wasn’t so fast that Jax missed the look, though. 

“Oooh, looks like someone is  _excited_.”

Mick cleared his throat.

“Of course I am. I-I enjoy Len’s company. I like havin’ him around. It’s not like  _that_ , though.”

Mick knew Jax was frowning. His friends’ reactions weren’t hard to guess.

“Hey, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I was just messing around.”

Mick turned and sighed. He couldn’t stand to be mad at Jax. The titan was a good friend, and had been since the beginning, ever since Mick crafted his chariot. Helios had even hugged him tight the first time he saw it, joyously celebrating and promising to bring light to the world every day after.

“Hey, I was gonna go out for lunch. You wanna come?”

“….Yeah, that sounds nice. Let me clean up.”

—

Mick laid on his bed, fiddling with a tiny music box. He’d built it for Apollo. Mick had kept in touch with the god over the years, though they never spoke in person. They mostly only talked about music.

Mick sighed and thought about the gods, the TV an almost soothing background noise. 

He tried very hard to not think about them, for the most part. Against his better judgement, he’d quietly kept track of quite a few of them. He of course knew what Kendra, Jax, Amaya were up to, they were his friends. And he knew what Len was doing, because Len was…something. And Mick, again, against his better judgement, liked to think about Len being something _more_.

Mick’s last lover had been, unfortunately, his ex-wife. It’s not even that he disliked Aphrodite, really. She had her charms, and she was far from a genuinely bad being. They just weren’t meant to be. Mick had always known that, that their marriage had been a sham-Zeus had basically gifted Aphrodite to him, to keep some peace-for a whole impressive _day_. But Mick had stayed faithful, because he knew good husbands were faithful to their lovers. 

Aphrodite had been….very much not faithful.

Mick knew the other gods expected him to be mad about that, but in all truthfulness, he wasn’t. He always knew Aphrodite had tastes and preferences that would lead her to others, especially when he couldn’t necessarily satisfy her in bed. Mick accepted that, though he was always hurt she never said anything about his exiling. 

Despite what many people had theorized over the years, Mick didn’t hate his ex-wife. He’d made her many gifts and been a good husband. And he knew she didn’t hate him. She had always been disappointed in having to marry him, and that was understandable. 

It was about the biggest instance of ‘she could do better’ that had ever happened.

But she’d never been cruel. Aphrodite had never brought men into their home, she’d always accompany him around the other gods, playing the part of the adored wife. She was just different from Mick, and far from what he sought in a partner. 

Though he had to admit that she  _was_  beautiful. The last time he’d seen a picture of her, she was just as lovely as the day they’d wed, though her form was different now.  A blonde, nowadays. Mick had smiled at that. She was shorter now, too, and going by the name Rosa Dillon. He had rolled his eyes at Eros standing next to her, always attending to her.

That guy annoyed Mick.

If he had anything truly negative to say about her, it was her choice to sleep with Ares. And that wasn’t even her fault. 

Ares and Hephaestus had never gotten along, though Mick didn’t quite know why; maybe it was that Mick had crafted fine armor for Ares’ sister, but not her. Mick had turned away Ares every time she came to him for something, too, knowing she’d only use it for war. Mick only made things for war when he knew the right people would use them.

After Ares and Aphrodite had had their affair, Ares had made it her goal to let everyone know that Mick was being slept around on; Aphrodite had always done her best to keep her lovers a secret, so as to not humiliate or hurt Mick. He'd hated the look on Aphrodite’s face when she told him what Ares had been doing. And of course, none of the gods had done anything. 

Mick thought of Zeus. Now that was a god that Mick had never gotten along with. Zeus was brash and stuck up and a terrible husband. 

Mick didn’t like to think of Hera, though. He’d never liked to think of his mother.

Mick sighed. He closed his eyes, and saw only Len’s smile and clear eyes, and the glint of his helmet. 

It warmed him to know that Len kept Mick’s gifts with him at all times. He’d been so careful, making the helmet and the sandals. They carried Len all these years, and it felt good to know he’d done a good job.

And that he’d made Len happy.

Mick sighed again. 

Maybe…it was okay, that he thought that way about Len. And, despite what he’d told his friends, he _did_ feel that way. Mick had never felt romantically about…anyone, really. He’d briefly thought something about Athena, centuries ago, but it had never gone anywhere. 

Possible dodged bullet with that one, in retrospect.

Mick had spent all these years alone, no lover, no partner, no spouse. He truly didn’t envision anyone being interested, he doesn’t see how that could happen. He was so painfully ugly. Maybe not in the face-his nose was a bit much, but overall, his face looked pretty average-but his  _body_. 

He’d been born with his mangled leg, and years of hard work had hardened his body and worsened the condition of his leg. And then the exile, and the violent force with which he’d been expelled from Olympus had burned his body badly. His back and arms were covered in burn scars, slightly gnarled in places from not healing right, his legs burned in large patches. That had only made the mangled leg more disfigured. 

Mick didn’t even look at himself, if he could help it. How could anyone else want to?

Even in the rare moments that he allowed himself to fantasize about Len, Mick always had his clothes on, and Len’s hands never strayed under them. And it’s not that Mick didn’t have those urges-it had taken a while to get them, but he still avoided it as much as possible. The few times Mick allowed himself to relieve those urges, he tried to get through it quickly. He had only ever laid with Aphrodite, and while that had been pleasurable, it was a very long time ago, and he never really felt like he was doing a good job in bed. He couldn’t help but worry that if he and Len ever did-by some miracle-grow to have a sexual relationship, that he’d disappoint him.

Mick opened his eyes, and turned off the light next to his bed. He laid down, closing his eyes, and drifted off slowly, to surprisingly happy thoughts of bright eyes and the gleam of delicate metal wings.

 

 


	3. Verse III: An Admission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mick is seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and the years start coming and they don't stop coming 
> 
> so the constant updates are weird for me, as i'm usually not that kind of writer, but this story seems to have dug its talons into the meat that is the core of my being, so here's chapter three. i hope it satisfies
> 
> oh also teensy bit of smut

Mick checked over the room again, smoothing out the sheets, checking the outlets, making sure the paint job was finished well and not patchy. 

 

He knew it was fine, there was nothing wrong with the room, but he couldn’t help but worry over it. Len was going to be here in a week, and Mick...he just wanted it to be right. 

 

Mick had even admitted to a friend of his that he was excited for Len to come live with him. He was excited to live with Len, to get up in the morning and make breakfast for him, to spend his days with him. 

 

Mick had not admitted to anyone that the idea of Len being unclothed in the house excited him in a whole other way. 

 

He’d finally accepted that he was attracted to and aroused by Len; it was rare for Mick to like someone enough that they made him physically aroused. But Len was different from anyone Mick had ever known, and he was the first in Mick’s many centuries to fully capture his attentions. Len was clever and smart and still not good with people; Mick liked that, that the messenger of the gods was antisocial. Mick liked that Len was funny and kind and still a bit ruthless when he had to be. And he liked that Len seemed to like him. 

 

Mick wasn’t expecting or hoping much; he knew he still stood no chance, but….he’d thought, maybe, maybe Len wouldn’t think him so ugly and unworthy of love, and maybe he’d see the potential for a relationship with him. But those were just fantasies. 

 

Pleasant fantasies, at least. 

 

Mick blushed and left the room, going to his workshop in the back. He still had projects to work on, and he could think about Len later.

 

\---

 

The stream of the shower was strong and scalding, the way Mick liked. He tilted his head back and sighed, the water bouncing off the bare skin of his scalp. 

 

He always showered quick; less time in the shower, less possibility of seeing his own body. He quickly washed himself, cleaning the little grooves and dips of the burn scars. He hated looking at himself, and he hated his scars, but he knew to keep them clean. They were healed, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t get nasty all over again. 

 

Mick rinsed himself off and let the water fall on his back for a few minutes, soothing his muscles. He thought of Len, and relaxed more. He imagined Len in his home, in this shower. What his skin would look like after the hot water reddened it, his face as his body relaxed, his pink lips wet and open. 

 

Mick sighed and did his best to not look down at his cock. He knew he was hard, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to deal with it. Though...the images in his head were rather tantalizing. He supposed there was no harm. 

 

He reached down and wrapped his hand around his cock, the hard length warm and heavy. Mick started to move, not intending to draw this out. He stroked his hand over his cock, his other hand braced against the wall. Mick thought of Len’s hands, the long fingers, warm-toned skin, the odd little scar crossing three of his fingers on one hand. Mick thought of those long fingers touching him, stroking the sensitive skin, pressing at the sensitive spot just under the head, tracing the thick vein that ran along the underside. 

 

Mick gasped, thrusting into his own grip, eyes shut tight. He ventured out in his fantasies, for the first time, and imagined Len on his knees in front of him, taking him into his mouth. Mick had only ever had that done to him once, but he’d enjoyed it. He could only imagine how much he’d enjoy having Len’s lovely pink lips around his cock. 

 

Mick felt himself tighten, and he came, spilling over his hand and the wall. He took a moment to catch his breath, leaning his forehead against the cool tile. Mick rinsed the wall off, laughing a little at himself. He turned the water off and pulled back the shower curtain, frowning. He’d usually bring his clothes in with him and get dressed after drying off, but he’d forgotten his clothes. Mick sighed in annoyance. He really didn’t like having his body uncovered for so long. 

 

He dried off, and wrapped the towel around his waist. It at least covered his leg. Mick opened the bathroom door and stepped out, eyes going wide. 

 

“Len?”

 

Len was standing in the hallway, staring at Mick, blinking. He shrugged and smiled, just slightly. 

 

“Surprise?”

 

Mick turned right around and slammed the door, locking it behind him before sliding down to the ground, back pressed against the wood. It got harder to breath, and he pressed a hand to his chest, trying to calm down. 

“Mick? Mick, what’s wrong-”

 

Mick couldn’t answer him, he couldn’t breathe, he had to breathe-

 

“Please-I just-I wanted to surprise you, Mick, I’m sorry-can you tell me what’s wrong, please-”

 

Mick felt the sting of tears at his eyes and let out a choked sob. 

 

“Mick? Please-are you hurt? Let me help you-”

 

Mick fought back another sob and focused for a few minutes on his breathing, on calming himself, slowing it to a normal pace. He’d had these panic attacks before, ever since the exile. He knew he had to calm down. 

 

“I’m gonna break the door down, Mick, I’m worried-please-”

 

“You saw me.”

 

Mick said it quietly, but he knew Len had heard it. There was a moment of silence. 

 

“I-yeah, I did, a little, but-Mick, what does that matter? I didn’t see anything-the towel covered you up pretty well-”

 

“Not that, you saw….my scars.”

 

Silence.

 

“Oh.”

 

Mick shut his eyes tight. This was it. He knew it, this was the moment that Len was going to laugh at him, or call  him hideous. He’d say he didn’t want anything to do with him now that he knew he was a disgusting freak. Mick braced himself, trying his best to at least control his breathing, waiting for Len to say it. 

 

“I...I didn’t know that mattered, I’m sorry. They’re just scars, Mick. They’re nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

Mick opened his eyes, confused. That...wasn’t laughing, or mean. 

 

“What?”

 

“They’re scars, Mick. It’s not like you had one of the human’s symbols of hatred tattooed on your chest. Why-wait-why are you embarrassed about them? From what I saw, they….well…”

 

Mick frowned. This must be it, this must be when Len pulls the rug out from under him.

 

“They what?”

 

“I just-I don’t want to sound weird, but-they looked pretty sexy.”

 

Mick’s face went blank. 

 

“You’re-don’t do that.”

 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-if you don’t-if you aren’t interested-”

 

“No, I mean don’t fucking make fun of me.”

 

“What? I’m not, Mick, what are you talking about?”

 

Mick growled under his breath. 

 

“They’re not that. I’m not that. If you’re gonna make fun of me-then you can leave.”

 

“Mick, please, I’m not-”

 

Len sighed, and Mick heard him bump his forehead against the door.

 

“Mick, please listen to me: I’m not making fun of you. I will never make fun of you. I might make some badly timed comments and say something stupid but it’s never with the intent to hurt you, okay? I don’t want to hurt you. Ever since the moment I decided to find you, I never wanted to hurt you. I-I care about you, you’re my friend, and-it’s more than that, but I don’t ever want to hurt you, or upset you. If you want me to leave, then I’ll leave, and I’m sorry, but...Hephaestus, I think you’re beautiful. I have ever since I first saw you in that parking lot. Fuck, Hephaestus, I’ve never seen someone like you.” 

 

Mick sat there for a few minutes, before standing slowly. He gripped the doorknob, licking his lips, and he turned the knob. 

Len sat in front of him, on his knees on the floor-a bit of a mockery of Mick’s earlier fantasies-and Len looked up at him. His eyes were slightly red, shiny tracks down his cheeks and it occurred to Mick that Len had been crying. 

 

Mick tried to stave off the panic prickling at the edges of his mind, and he looked down at Len.

 

“I don’t want you to leave.”

 

Len sniffled. 

 

“I don’t want to leave you.”

 

Mick gritted his teeth and held the towel tight around his hips. 

 

“I...I need to get dressed, but-I want to tell you. About this. But I can’t-I need to be covered.”

 

Len frowned, but nodded. He stood and moved out of Mick’s way, eyes directed at the floor. Mick took a deep breath before reaching out and laying his hand on Len’s shoulder. 

 

“You...can look, but-not for a long time, please. I’m not-just-I need to tell you about it first.”

 

Len nodded, and Mick knew he was  taking the opportunity to look at him. He hoped that Len was being honest about what he’d said; what he knew of Len so far led him to believe that he was. Mick left to his room and shut the door, dressing quickly and sitting on the bed for a few minutes, breathing slowly and steadily. He wanted to be calm before this. 

 

\---

 

Mick and Len sat across from each other at the table, both with cups of tea that Len had made. Mick took a drink of the warm liquid and sighed. He put his hands around the mug tight, letting the warmth soothe him. 

 

“I’m...not okay with having my body looked at. I don’t even look at my body, if I can help it. I-the scars are from the exile. I was burned on the way down, and-it all made my leg worse. That’s the worst part. She always-she hated that I was disfigured, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. But-Len, I-I want to be able to be okay with you seeing me, but-it feels like you’re gonna have people jump out from behind the furniture to say I’m being pranked or something. It’s hard to let go of three thousand years of thinking people will call me a freak.”

 

Mick looked at Len, to gauge his reaction, and Len looked contemplative.

 

“Alright. I...I meant it, when I said that I think you’re beautiful. I’m okay with you not being able to agree with that right now, but I want you to-I hope that changes. And-fuck, I’m sorry, I’m angry.”

 

Mick raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. 

 

“Why?”

 

“Because of what they did to you. What Hera did to you. I’ve heard the stories, I know she exiled you for a stupid reason-all because she was pissy-and to you, of all the gods? You’re so-you deserve better than that, and to see how it’s affected you now, I just-I can’t stand them. I can’t. I’m sorry, Mick, I-”

 

Len growled and he crossed his arms over his chest, huffing. Mick looked at him fume for a second, before smiling, a short laugh coming out of him. 

 

“Len...I’m really happy you found me.”

 

Len blushed, and his scowl turned to a smile, looking up at Mick through long lashes. 

 

“I’m happy I did, too, Mick.”

 

Mick stood and picked up his mug. He held his hand out to Len, until Len took it. 

 

“C’mon. I’ll show you your room.”

 

Len stood and walked with him to the room, happy to keep his hand in Mick’s. 


	4. Verse IV: So Said The Messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> len thinks about his journey to this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this one is pretty damn short, but it fought me ever since i started it. hopefully it's not totally blech.

  
  


Len sipped his drink through a straw. Of all humanity’s inventions, straws might be his favorite. He couldn’t even really say why. He just enjoyed them. Len looked across the table at his companion. He grinned. 

“So how are things with Apollo?”

Hades flipped her long, golden-brown hair over her shoulder and smirked. 

“Wonderfully. He lights up my life.”

Len laughed. He liked to tease Lisa about her love life. They’d become close years and years and centuries ago. Lisa was like a sister to him, and they acted like it, though it was never clear who thought of themselves as the older sibling. 

(Both of them did, and didn’t admit it.)

After Olympus fell, Len stayed in the underworld with Lisa for many years. One of his primary jobs had involved spending time there anyway, so it wasn’t unfamiliar. He was happy to spend so long with his sister. Especially as it gave him ample time to poke fun at her boyfriend. Apollo-Cisco, now-was a nice guy, and Len got along with Cisco’s sister, as well.

Len sighed and reached up, bringing a bit of his helmet out of phase to rub it. The cool metal was soothing, and smooth. Lisa noticed, giving him a look.

“You keep those with you, after all these years?”

Len blushed, phasing his helmet back out.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Lisa smiled. 

“I remember when he made those. He was very proud of them.”

“Who?”

“Hephaestus, of course. You-oh. You didn’t meet him before his exile, did you?”

Len frowned, and leaned forward, looking down at the table and fiddling with his straw. 

“No, I didn’t. But-”

“Yes?”

“Well….I’d like to. If I knew where he was, I’d go there right away.”

Lisa frowned, and leaned her elbows on the table. She had an intense look about her, eyes flashing to their natural gold and black color. 

“I can help. Some of the gods keep in touch, you never know who knows who.”

 

\---

 

Len had spent thirty years looking for Mick. Thirty years well worth the wait, as he found out. He’d found him in the parking lot of a home improvement store, loading things into a truck. Len had been struck by Hephaestus’ attractiveness; the artwork scattered about Greece and Rome did  _ not _ do him justice. He was bald now, and just...so  _ big _ . Len wasn’t short by any means, but Mick had width, too, broad all over with muscle. 

Len was clumsy on purpose, to get Mick to notice him. Since that first day, they’d become close. Months of knowing one another, learning one another. Whenever he was free, he’d come to Central City and stay with Mick. 

His favorite thing, through all these months, was watching Mick work. 

Mick had a very organized workshop, filled with different projects in different stages of completion, and Len liked to watch him mold and carve and cut and sculpt, forming wood and metal into things like wheelchairs, braces, prosthetic limbs. He made furniture and other things, too, but he mostly made things to help disabled people. Len found that very endearing. Mick had spent thousands of years as the only disabled god, and he’d dedicated his time to helping all these humans in similar situations to his own.

Len had started accompanied Mick on deliveries, helping him load and unload the projects. It was...it was really something to see the looks on the faces of the humans that Mick helped. 

Len knew he had a look on his own face at those times, too. 

He had been attracted to Mick from the start, and those feelings had only intensified over time. Mick was just so damn sweet and kind, and passionate, but rarely angry. Mick hadn’t even been mad about Len’s encounter with his ex-wife. And Len had talked with Mick in detail about the gods, about Olympus, about everything, Mick happy to have another god to talk to about those things.

Everything except the exile.

Len had heard stories from multiple gods and titans about what exactly had happened, but Mick remained fairly tight-lipped about the whole thing, apart from that one time when Len had first seen Mick’s glorious body. And a  _ glorious _ body it was; the scars and burns warped his skin, but they were stunning. A symbol of strength, if anything. Len hadn’t seen Mick’s leg, and he knew that was probably for the best, for now, for Mick.

Len still couldn’t believe Hera had been so cruel to her son. 

Hephaestus was the only god born from Hera and solely Hera. Len had learned that early, from Poseidon, during a trip on a boat sometime in the 1600s. Hera had, according to the sea god, been been annoyed at Zeus’ birthing of Athena, and wanted a child that was solely her own. And she’d birthed Mick, and been disgusted at his malformed leg. She’d not exiled him for that, though, and appointed him to be the craftsman and blacksmith of the gods. He was gifted and skilled, and could create anything out of anything.

Hephaestus had, from what the twins-Apollo and Artemis, who Len had stayed with in Austria for the duration of the second world war-said, been absolutely invaluable to Olympus. He’d made all of the weapons of the gods and many heroes, even the bolts that Zeus used. Mick had made the thrones of the gods, too, and had personally designed most of the functions of Olympus. Len had even met Pandora at a tech conference in Silicon Valley a few years ago, and asked her about Hephaestus. 

By that point, he’d been searching for twenty-five years for the god of fire, and Pandora gave him some more insight into what kind of god he was. She-now going by the name Zari-had lovingly referred to him as her ‘dad’, and told Len about when she was created. She’d been part of Zeus’ plan of revenge against the brothers Epimetheus and Prometheus-Len had met them before, Nate and Ray, now, and hadn’t liked them much-and Hephaestus had molded Zari from the earth, bringing her to life in his forge. He’d crafted the jar she was sent down to earth with, but had openly objected to the plan as a whole. 

Zari had frowned, and said that he and Athena were the only ones who thought creating her just to trick the brothers into releasing evil and woe unto humanity was wrong, and that they’d both fought to keep her on Olympus instead. 

Len had asked if she’d seen him since, and she’d shook her head. Her face didn’t look quite as right with a sad look. 

Len promised to get in touch with her once he found Hephaestus.

And then, five years later, there he was. Meeting Hephaestus. Meeting Mick. 

Len had traveled all over the world, and he’d never met anyone like Mick. 

Len watched Mick through the kitchen window, as he worked on a pen. He was apparently adopting a donkey, intent on naming him Roger. He watched as the sweat drenched through Mick’s shirt, making it cling to him, his broad chest and the slight pudge on his stomach. 

Len bit his lip. Mick was  _ unbearably _ attractive.

Len had taken many lovers over the years, for the most part staying out of serious relationships. He hadn’t found another immortal being whom he wanted to spend eternity with. He had been a little jealous of his sister, who’d found love with Apollo. But he thought, maybe...maybe Mick could be different. That he could be that one. He  _ hoped _ Mick was that one.

Len kept watching through the window, sighing. Mick was gorgeous. 

He thought again to the exile. She’d exiled Mick for disobeying her, she’d wanted something to attack humanity, and-from what Athena had told Len-Mick had said no, that he had done that once with Pandora and wouldn’t do it again. She’d then thrown what could only be amounted to a hissy fit, exiling him violently from Olympus. Literally  _ throwing _ him to the human realm, his body burning along the way. Mick hated those scars so deeply. Len wondered why he didn’t view them as a badge of honor. He’d stood up to the queen of the gods, unwilling to do something wrong. 

Mick was quiet, but had a strong sense of right and wrong and stuck by it. Len admired that, as he was a bit more gray on many things. 

Len watched as Mick used the bottom of his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead, stomach exposed for a few seconds, and Len wanted to bite the soft skin, and kiss it. 

Mick hadn’t actually said whether or not the interest was returned. That day between the door, Mick had implied that it maybe was, but there was nothing after that.

Len was okay with that. He didn’t want to push. And he’d known people before, who couldn’t be with anyone unless they’d known someone for a long period of time. Maybe Mick was like that. Len knew he’d be worth the wait. 

Len poured a glass of water and brought it out to Mick.

“How’s the pen going?”

Mick drank the entire glass and smiled. 

“It’s going good. Just gotta do the walls, but I can do that tomorrow. Hey, uh…”

Len stood a bit closer, leaning in. He saw Mick’s eyes travel over his chest, before Mick blushed and looked away.

“Yes, Mick?”

“I just...do you wanna go out for dinner? Maybe somewhere nice?”

It was Len’s turn to blush, and he grinned. 

“I’d like that.”

Mick twisted his hands over the glass in his hand. 

“I gotta put everything up, and shower, so-seven sound good?”

Len nodded and took the glass from him, letting his fingers rest against Mick’s for a few long moments, before heading inside to get ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was a date. they went on a date but mick didn't wanna say that directly. aftermath coming soon.


	5. Verse V: Something New, Something Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> good things are as bound to happen as bad things.

  
  


Len laughed, and Mick felt very warm all over. The restaurant wasn’t too far from his home, so they decided to walk there. Mick had opted to wear a button up with no undershirt, the most uncovered he’d ever been in public. Len looked as devastatingly handsome as always, hair grown out a little, the curls forming properly, dressed in a thin sweater and tight jeans. 

Mick could see just the barest hint of Len’s skin under the the sweater, and loved it. 

They got to the restaurant and were seated surprisingly promptly for a Friday night. Mick and Len sat across from each other at a booth-Mick hated tables, they were too open-and they looked over the menu. Mick already knew what he wanted, and took the time to subtly watch Len.

There was quite a bit he wanted.

Len was lit by the last rays of sunlight through the window, the gentle lighting of restaurant making his skin look even warmer, even more inviting, his cheeks just slightly flushed. 

It had taken Mick six months to know he was attracted to Len, to finally feel connected enough to even give it a chance. But now…

“Mick?”

Mick blinked and looked up at Len. Len was smiling softly, his eyes bright and clear and lovely.

“Y-yeah?”

“What are you getting?”

“Oh-oh, this, let me show you-”

Mick pointed out what he liked on the menu, and Len ordered for both of them when the waiter came. He smiled at Len, and grabbed a chip out of the bowl they’d brought. 

“Len, I-can I ask you something?”

Len looked up, lips still on his straw. 

“Hm?”

Mick cleared his throat, and licked his lips. 

“I...I’ve been thinking, and-I mean, I...would you...like to...fuck, shit, I don’t-sorry, give me a minute.”

Len tilted his head and reached a hand out, laying it over Mick’s, calming him, soothing him. Mick looked into Len’s eyes, those clear, beautiful eyes.

“Whatever it is, take your time.”

Mick glanced at their joined hands, and swallowed. He was ready for this. He wanted this. 

“I think-maybe I want-I think I-no, that’s not...I  _ know _ I want to be with you. In the...the romantic sense.”

Len’s eyes went wide and they were silent as the waiter dropped off their food. Neither of them started eating yet. Mick began to worry as Len didn’t answer, until Len lifted his other hand and held Mick’s slightly larger hand in both of his. 

“Mick, I...I absolutely want to-I want that. I want you, I have for-are you sure?”

Mick nodded, blushing at the prolonged contact. 

“Yeah. I-I need to tell you some things and make some shit clear, but I want you. I want this. I’m ready for that.”

Mick smiled, unable to keep himself from grinning. Len’s hand felt good on his own, in a way that touch hadn’t felt in a long time. Even Aphrodite’s touch had never held this sort of weight.

“Mick?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if I sat next to you?”

Mick blushed and scooted over, Len standing and moving into the space next to him. Mick didn’t feel trapped or uncomfortable, like he usually did when people were this close to him. Len was warm and practically glowing with it, and Mick wanted to revel in that warmth. Len let his thigh press along Mick’s, and Mick felt a little thrill through his body.

They ate dinner together comfortably, happily, talking in low tones to each other. It was….peaceful, in a way Mick hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Or ever, really. 

\---

They walked home, the cool air soothing Mick. He enjoyed being outside. He enjoyed being outside with Len. They were side by side, and Mick glanced at Len, watching the streetlights give an unusual, but still beautiful glow to Len’s skin. Mick swallowed and quickly reached out, slipping his hand into Len’s. He blushed at the look of surprise on Len’s face, before Len squeezed back.

They reached his home, and Len kept his hand in Mick’s, tugging until Mick turned to look at him. 

“Len?”

“Mick, would….I’d like to-”

Len was flushed, more shy than Mick had ever seen him. It was an odd look on the god.

“Well, I’d like to...share a bed with you, tonight, if that’s okay.”

Mick’s eyes went wide, and he swallowed again, throat dry. 

“Oh. I-Len, I-”

“It’s okay if you don’t, I just-I thought-”

“No, Len, just-let’s go inside, and I’ll...c’mon.”

Mick let go of Len’s hand and unlocked the door, both of them walking into the living room. Len’s arms were crossed over his chest, and he seemed nervous. Mick smiled gently and walked up to him after locking the door, placing his hands on Len’s arms, rubbing softly. The material of Len’s sweater was soft and smooth. 

“Hey, cool it. I only needed to tell you that I’m not....I’m not ready for-uh- _ that _ , you know?”

Len looked him in the eyes; there was very little space between them.

“Oh-that’s it? Oh-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...I wasn’t planning on anything like that, tonight, I thought-maybe it’d be nice to wait, we did only  _ just _ get together-does that mean?”

“Yeah. I-yeah. I want you with me. I do.”

Len smiled and bit his lip, looking at Mick with a bit of heat, regardless of his plans for the night. Mick felt odd. No one had ever looked at him like that before.

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed.”

His voice was a touch lower in pitch, and Mick let out a deep breath. He watched Len walk to his room, and Mick damn near fell down.

The experience of making his romantic intentions had been a little exhausting, but in an unexpectedly pleasant way. Usually personal things and feelings wore him out, but this felt...fulfilling. The way Len had looked at him, talked to him, touched him, it all made Mick feel very new feelings. He’d never felt like this with Aphrodite. But, they had never truly been in love.

Mick sat for a moment. Love. That was new.

“Mick?”

Mick shook his head, blinking up at Len. Len was wearing a tank top and loose, thin sleep pants, the shirt clinging to his trim waist and the muscles of his chest. Mick licked his lips, and Len grinned. 

“You coming to bed?”

Mick nodded, and took the hand Len held out to him. He followed Len into the bedroom, grabbing the clothes he slept in and getting ready. Mick thought some more as he brushed his teeth and washed his face. His henley left a little v of chest uncovered, and clung to his body. He looked himself over in the mirror, hoping he looked good enough for Len.

Len was channel surfing when he got back in the bedroom, splayed happily on the bed. He looked, in a way, like a very large cat.    
“Hope you don’t mind. I like having noise when I sleep.”

Mick got into the bed, laying under a thin weighted blanket. Len made his way under the blanket too, laying on his side, facing Mick. Mick almost wanted to keep the lights on, just to keep looking at him. He shut the lamps off, though, the light from the tv still illuminating them a bit. Mick laid on his side, blushing and unsure. 

“I….haven’t shared a bed in a while, I don’t-I’m not sure what to do, sorry-”

Len laughed a little, not a mean laugh, but a sweet one, and shifted closer. 

“You don’t have to do anything in particular, just what feels right.”

Mick watched Len, smiling a little. 

“Uh-what if...what if I don’t know what feels right?”

Len reached out and placed one hand on Mick’s hip. 

“Did you ever lay with Aphrodite like this?”

The question didn’t hurt like he thought it would.

“We shared a bed most nights. But we didn’t-we weren’t really into touching each other much. I slept in my workshop some nights.”

“Oh-so...you guys didn’t...touch, a lot? Did you…”

Mick felt his cheeks heat up and he ducked his face down.

“We kissed a few times, yeah. And-a couple of times, we did…. _ that _ .”

Mick wasn’t upset, but he was terribly embarrassed. Which usually would be an emotion that upset him, but being embarrassed with Len felt oddly safe. 

“Well, you were married. I think that’s the tradition.”

Mick huffed out a laugh and scooted closer. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

Len was very close, and was quiet for a minute. 

“Who’ve you been with other than her?”

“What?”

Mick could physically feel Len retreating from the question.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Nah, it’s okay, I just-no one.”

Len was silent.

“You-what do you mean? You haven’t had-with anyone? In all this time?”

Mick bit his lip, and shook his head. He wasn’t ready for this to be the moment, out of all of them, where Len decided to make fun of him.

“How...is that even possible? You’re so  _ hot _ .”

“What.”

“You’re really, really attractive, Mick. I know you don’t believe that yet, but...it’s just hard to believe that no one has ever...I mean, fuck, Mick, I wanted you to rail me until I couldn’t walk after knowing you for two days.”

MIck’s blush deepened and he hid his face in his hands.

“Aw, Mick.”

He felt Len’s hands on his, moving them away from his face, and Len was even closer now. Len kept holding his hands. 

“You’re so cute. I bet you’ve at least been kissed a whole lot.”

“Well….no, not really.”

“What?”

Mick swallowed, blush still strong on his cheeks. 

“I haven’t kissed anyone but Aphrodite. Ever.”

Len’s eyes were trained on Mick’s lips.

“So….in all those centuries, no one has ever gotten to kiss you?”

“Nope.”

“Do you think I could change that?”

Their gazes met for a moment, and Mick swallowed, Len’s body heat warming him and exciting him. 

“Yeah, I think you could.”

They both leaned in, Mick’s lips gently pressing to Len’s, Len letting out a moan, moving to cup Mick’s face with one hand, the other gripping Mick’s hip. He pressed his whole body against him, and Mick surprised himself by pressing back. He pulled Len to lay on top of him, and Len followed the movement, one leg between Mick’s.

The kiss was deeper now, Len’s tongue licking against Mick’s lips until he opened them, and  _ wow _ , Mick had certainly never experienced a sensation like that. He wrapped his arms around Len’s waist, and let Len control the kiss.

He presumably had more experience, and Mick trusted him.

They broke apart to breathe, as even gods needed that, and Len kissed the tip of Mick’s nose, smiling and resting his forehead against MIck’s. Mick couldn’t help but smile, too, and he shifted them until they were back on their sides. He was still holding Len, tight around his waist. Len nuzzled him, his nose and his cheek, and kissed him again. 

It was softer, and sweeter this time, and Mick felt so wholly comfortable that it almost made him dizzy.

Len positioned himself in Mick’s arms, cuddled close to his broader, bigger body, and sighed. 

“Mm. I love you, Mick.”

Mick didn’t hesitate to lean down and kiss him on the forehead, tightening his hold on Len. 

“I love you, too.”

Sleep had not always come easily to Mick. It often evaded him, discomfort at what he saw when he closed his eyes driving him to work through the night, but tonight, sleep came to him easily, Len’s warmth and weight in his arms, the television quietly droning in the background.

\---

MIck stretched and blinked his eyes open, confused momentarily at the weight against him. He remembered the previous night, and smiled. He looked down at Len, the room lit by the first light of the morning, still blanketed by clouds. The tv had shut off, and the room was quiet. Mick leaned down, kissing Len’s soft hair. 

He carefully got out of bed, gathering his clothes for the day and changing in the bathroom. He went to the kitchen, making some coffee and something small to eat. He’d make something for Len, too, but later. He knew Len liked to sleep late. Mick had been waking early since his days on Olympus. It was ingrained into him. 

Mick made his way out to the workshop once the sun had risen, opening the large doors to let the cool morning air in. He was putting the finishing touches on a crib for a friend of his, and wanted it to be done by the afternoon. He pulled out his tools, listening to the early-morning birdsong, and started carving the last details into the wood. It was an intricate blessing, and he knew it would protect his friend’s child. He was so focused on his work that he didn’t hear the footsteps coming up the driveway. 

“So this is what you spend your time making now? Cribs and wheelchairs?”

Mick froze. He hadn’t heard that voice in years. Centuries. He’d last heard it on Olympus, loudly proclaiming Mick’s unworthiness, his flaws, his weakness. Mick straightened his back, and turned slowly.

“Hello, Ares.”

She didn’t look any different, really. Shorter than him, long blond hair. Fierce eyes. Beautiful in the same way a forest fire is. Mick did his best to stay calm, though a sharp pain shot deep into the muscle of his leg. 

“What do you want?”

Ares smiled, the sinister smile he remembered. He would never forget it. 

“I need soldiers.”

Mick winced. He had made mechanical helpers, on Olympus, fully intelligent beings with free will. He remembered what had happened to them,  _ who _ had happened to them. He never wanted to make a being for a purpose like that again, even for something as benevolent as helping him in his workshop.

Ares made her way around the workshop, running gloved hands over various objects. She came to stand next to him, examining the crib. She smirked at the carvings.

“A blessing? From you? I wish that kid luck.”

“I’m not making soldiers. I don’t make weapons anymore, Ares.”

Ares’ snarled, eyes flaring with light. She reached up and gripped the crib in her now-bare hand, snapping the uncarved wood easily. 

“Start, then.”

Mick’s breath was heavy, and he clenched his jaw tight. His leg was throbbing, now, down to the bone. 

“Get out. Now.”

Ares stepped closer, staring him in the eyes, before stepping back. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and smiled. She set a card with a number on it down on the table.

“Call me when you’re ready to talk. I was only able to drop by today, and I was hoping we could get this done quickly. When you call, ask for Sara Lance.”

She left, as quickly as she came. A forest fire, but with the malice of forethought. Mick waited until he heard her vehicle peel away, the smell of burning rubber wafting into the workshop. Mick ran his fingers over the broken wood of the crib, and sank to the ground, unable to stop the tears that sprang from his eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what up my name's mick i never learned how to schedule 
> 
> lmao this chapter kicked my ass

**Author's Note:**

> so to be entirely honest i wrote this because i saw someone's headcanons for which lot characters would be which greek gods and they completely missed that there's a god of thieves and a god of fire and i got petty lmao


End file.
